Dreamless Night
by CentaurFirenze
Summary: The heroes just can't win. No, really.
1. The Sleeping Death

Interestingly enough, it wasn't the first time his evil instincts had overrun any form of care he had for the man. Voldemort gave a short laugh as he took off the curse, watching as Severus lay crumpled in a heap on the floor.  
  
"Severus, I've told you time and time again.....why won't you listen?" he asked silkily, stepping forward so his shadow fell over the young man impedingly. His gasps came short and muffled behind the dark mask. Tutting softly he flicked his wand, magically propelling the Death Eater into a high backed armchair. "It pains me to have to torture you this way, Severus.," he said, forcing as much trust and compassion into his voice as he thought possible. The man didn't react, continued staring down at his gloved hands. Voldemort crossed his arms and stared down, a smile creeping across his lips.  
  
"You aren't the only one who has been learning tricks these past years.....I could easily find out any information I wished with a single flick of my wrist. It needn't be so painful you know, but I would much rather you cooperated with me."  
  
The eyes had a haunted look of too much stress and not enough sleep as they battled with his own. "I've told you as much as I can My Lord...." his voice was hoarse after that last dose of Cruciatus. Voldemort shook his head sadly "Severus I know when you are lying to me, I can see it in your eyes....not such a good mask anymore I should think....more of a shaded window easily transparent...." he paused and cast a glance at the broken form of the Potions master in front of him. "I've always considered you a sort of miniature of myself...." he hissed, forcing Severus to stare once more into his eyes. "Confused, bewildered...a need for acceptance.....Why it was almost that you were my son at some times. I don't like to see you cavorting with Dumbledore and his allies, it seems your allegiance to me has been slipping lately my faithful pawn."  
  
"Never swaying, master." the young man replied, in the monotone usually accompanying Cruciatus. "I am as faithful to you as I ever was....."  
  
A grin spread across the Dark Lord's face as Severus concentrated on something behind him. He iwas/i slipping....though not in faith...no, the strain on the poor mans mind must be getting too much....how extraordinarily easy to manipulate....  
  
"I have always been there in the past Severus, I seek only for your good." he probed a bit more, coaxing him towards the edge of ruin. As a trained Death eater he was almost immune to the tongue slips often made by Cruciatus victims, and as a potions master adept at alluding most truth serums, including Veritaserum. However fatigue was a weapon best used for these matters, Severus was too confused now to tell the difference between loyalties....a few more minutes now, perhaps a few more curses...  
  
"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" A phrase used often enough by the illustrious Headmaster Dumbledore, it sounded quite more foreboding on Lord Voldemort's tongue, like milk dappled with the sweetest poison......  
  
Unable to resist further, Severus met him in the eye, his own eyes looked confused and barely concentrating. "The Order Meeting?" he asked, creasing his forehead, closing his eyes slightly. Voldemort almost preened with pleasure as his victim began to fall.  
  
"Yes Severus, the Order Meeting. What time is it?" He seemed to be concentrating on remembering; a moment later he asked "Noon?" in the same bewildered tone, sinking to rest his head on his arms.  
  
"I must know the place as well, Severus." The young man paused and rubbed his eyes. "Hathaway Manor." he replied, his speech slurred as though by drink, though fatigue can be far more intoxicating than Odgens Old, as Voldemort thought. Dark hair fell in front of the now closed eyes, and Voldemort reached out to tilt his head forward once more.  
  
"Excellent, Severus.....However, before apparating I must know about the ward situation, can't be too careful." he tried to keep his tone light, as though asking about his daily schedule.  
  
The pale death eater blinked for a few moments before muttering "Down for convenience....dark apparition shields, though you wouldn't need to worry about those Headmaster."  
  
Taken aback by the way he had been addressed, Voldemort stared for a moment. Then a smile overtook his features once more. Severus was obviously so far gone that he couldn't even remembering who he was talking to. Headmaster indeed.....  
  
"The potions are ready.... took me a week....I'm sorry about the delay...." His heavy lidded eyes closed and he fell back onto his arms again, one of his eyes twitching slightly.  
  
The Dark Lord stood for a moment digesting this information. Noon in the Hathaway Manor, dark shields but no wards. Interesting. With a snap of his fingers he summoned two members of his inner circle. "Lucius, Decintius. Prepare for battle, I want every Death eater capable of fighting in the Main Hall by tomorrow morning. Is this understood?" The two death eaters turned to each other with dismay, as though deciding if their Lord was indeed insane. "Master, that's over a thousand!" protested the blonde haired servant. "it will be..." One look from the wizards eyes made him freeze. "I did not ask for the complications of it all, Lucius. I asked you to serve me as you are intended to do. Failure will not be treated with the normal punishments, but by something far. Far. Worse." His scowl was ten times more horrifying than his best evil smile, and they both scuttled out like terrified first years.  
  
Sighing, he turned around to face Severus, the man who he had rescued from ruin twenty years ago, who he had trained personally and had actually cared for at one time, had reached the end of his usefulness. Voldemort reached for an engraved silver goblet that lie on the table and strode over to the dozing form of the spy. Reaching out with one long hand he shook his shoulder gently. Severus snapped instantly to attention, but still only half awake. He swayed slightly as the dark Lord placed the goblet into his hands. "Drink, Severus. You need sleep. This will give you the rest you truly deserve.....sleep now. It will be over soon.....no need to be awake. Severus you must be so tired.....fall back......."  
  
The young man mechanically raised the goblet to his pale lips and gently murmured, "Sleep..." before downing an extreme overdose of the fatal Sleeping Death draught. After a few seconds of apprehension on Voldemort's part, he fell forward, deep in sleep. The Dark Lord's thin mouth broke forth in a bitter smile, and he brought out his wand.  
  
Levitating the sleeping form of his once unswayed servant onto a four poster bed, he bent down and whispered gently into his ear "In five hours I will have massed the army that will defeat my enemies, and in nine hours I will have done so. And it's all because of you.......Severus."  
  
Knowing the poor man would be dead within the hour, he instructed a nearby house-elf to remove the body in due time. Turning on his heel the infamous Dark Lord swept off to his own bedchambers to plot the final details of his barrage, and to get his own well deserved rest. The others will take care of everything. Lord Voldemort smiled to himself as he glanced out a window into the brewing storm. Speaking to his invisible adversary as he stared thoughtfully out at the purple lighting, thunder echoed menacingly around the stone walls.  
  
"Don't look now Albus. Everything you've worked so hard for will be crushed, everyone you raced to protect will be destroyed, and you will be nothing but a hopeful memory in the minds of those I spare. Evil has won the war, Professor...... and there's nothing you can do to stop it." 


	2. No happily ever after

AN:// Right then! Finally got it done, but I don't really think the final effort is worth the time I spent on it. But oh well. Disclaimer: None of these characters or spells belongs to me, yada yada yada..Except the Bouleverse defense, which means reversal, or turn back upon, and the consternation charm, which I think means fear or anxiety.  
  
Harry Potter sat at the head table of Hathaway Manors banquet hall, flanked on either side by Hermione and Ron. Albus Dumbledore, Edgar Allen, and several other prominent Order of the Phoenix members had battled their way through the storm to be here as well. Surrounding the head table were numerous other tables occupied by a hundred other supporters, muttering nervously amongst themselves about Voldemort's latest escapades. The whispers rose and echoed until the hall began to sound like a wind tunnel. Harry sighed and craned his neck around Hermione to look at Sirius. He was deeply engaged in conversation with Olivia Enderson, a rather attractive Ministry member. To his right, Remus was whispering in a heated argument with Mundungus Fletcher, who was waving two small pieces of parchment under his nose.  
  
Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and sighed as a loud crash of thunder echoed throughout the hallway. Meetings were becoming more and more dangerous. The previous month, several members had been murdered on a Death Eater raid to a muggle town. Snape had just barely been able delivered the message of the attack in time to spare hundreds of more deaths. It was he who they were waiting for. For half an hour now, if his watch was functioning correctly.  
  
Harry turned impatiently to Hermione just as the doors to the manor opened. The chatter stopped instantly as the dark haired young man they had all come to know as an ally strode foreword towards the head table. As he took his sea between Dumbledore and Hermione, she flashed him a smile, which he pointedly ignored. Ron smiled sardonically at him, while giving him an obscene gesture underneath the table.  
  
After a moment, Dumbledore rose and cleared his throat, which was really unnecessary, because everyone had instantly snapped to attention the moment he stood. Dumbledore somehow managed to beam around at tem all, while simultaneously looking solemn and grave. He glanced at Snape, who was slumped in his chair staring at his hands. He placed a hand on his shoulder, which went unnoticed, and began.  
  
"Aurors, Ministry, and Muggles alike. I welcome you to what I hope to be the final meeting of the Order of the Phoenix." Murmurs arose in the crowd, and some people rose slightly in their seats. "I thank you for breaking away from your schedule, and as time is short I will not keep you a moment more than is necessary. For moths now, one of our number has been studying, researching, and developing a spell that will cause severe weakening to Voldemort's defensive wards. Ms. Granger, if you would present your report?" She blushed and stood to furious applause, grasping a thick roll of parchment.  
  
As she began what Harry knew to be a long and tedious report, Harry unintentionally tuned her out. He had heard this at least five times before anyway, when she was practicing with him, Ron, and Ginny as her audience. His eyes drifted over towards Snape, who sat in an uncharacteristic slouch. Harry frowned slightly. Snape usually sat stiffly in his chair, staring straight ahead at the stained glass window across the hall. Today, however, he didn't even seem to be the same person. He hadn't responded with the usual Snapish way to Sirius's smirks, Ron's consistent sinful gestures, or Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder. Any other day he would have pulled away.  
  
Dumbledore seemed to have noticed this as well, and he caught Harry's eye over the top of the Potions Master's head.  
  
"....All of which can be broken with a well placed Amorphous hex. Now if this curse was to be used in combination with a variation on..."  
  
Harry suddenly realized that Snape wasn't staring at his hands, but his left forearm. That was odd....  
  
A loud cheering broke his concentration and he looked back at Hermione as she sank relieved back into her seat. She caught Harry's eyes and smiled. "I was so nervous!" she mouthed.  
  
Dumbledore began to speak again, and Harry continued examining his former Potions Master. His brow was furrowed and he seemed to be waiting for a signal from his arm.....the Dark mark rather.  
  
Four years ago, in his fourth year, Harry had seen the Dark mark for the first time. It was something odd, yet extremely cool to one of his years. He had since decided that one of the reasons so many of his classmates had turned against them was to get the one of a kind tattoo.  
  
Suddenly Snape twitched violently, causing both Hermione and Remus to look at him concernedly. He ignored them, and stood to whisper to the Headmaster, before striding out the back door. There was something disconcerting about the look of relief on the man's face that made Harry miss the next few minutes of the meeting.  
  
For another quarter of an hour the Order listened raptly to what Harry often compared to Quidditch pep rallies. Dumbledore truly motivated his followers, and after one meeting, most of them were ready to go along with whatever he came up with.  
  
"And with our plans finalized, this may be our last meeting." He paused again as everyone present felt a prickle go up their spine, as usually follows the casting of a powerful spell. Murmurs started up again, and Harry stood slightly as Dumbledore's eyes flashed towards the large doors at the end of the hall, which stood slightly ajar.  
  
A single, tall figure, arms cross, and features shrouded by a dark black cloak stood in the entryway. Rain lashed about behind him, lightning illuminating where he stood in an eerie manner. "Is this indeed, the last meeting? Pity, I was so looking forward to more." The mocking laughter sent chills once more through the audience. The members at the head table were on their feet with Dumbledore by now. "But if this is to be your final meeting, it wouldn't be because you succeeded, would it?" Doors around the hall began to open, revealing hordes of black robed Death Eaters, who began filing in. The members of the resistance were frozen with fear and shock. "Because I would hate for you all to run away with false hopes..  
  
"You see Albus, you have failed. Miserably I might add. And for a simple reason, ridiculous really. You left all your demands and secrets to a man who was all too easily broken and bent to my will." There was a gasp from the audience, and everyone's eyes flew to Dumbledore, who was staring coldly down at the figure. The look of hatred was so alien on his jovial face that it everyone unthinkingly took a step backward. He inhaled deeply and surveyed the room around him, before fixating his eyes once more on the cloaked man.  
  
"What have you done with him, Tom?" His voice was calm, but needed no magical enhancing to reach to even the far corners of the hall.  
  
The figure threw his cloak to one side, and Lord Voldemort stared boldly back, his face forced into a horrific sneer. "It isn't what I did. It's what you did. You failed to see his weakness. You overestimated his abilities. Therefore you failed him. Last night he fell asleep for the last time. Just like you woke up this morning......" His smile was unnerving and he sneered up at the elderly wizard. "One.... Last..... Time."  
  
As if it were a signal, every masked follower pulled out his wand and commenced the attack.  
  
~ ( O ) ~  
  
Those that tried to disapparate were instantly cut down by anti apparition wards, and dozens more were swathed in the deadly green light of the first attack. Voldemort strode down the carpet, his eyes fixated on Dumbledore, completely unaware of the mayhem going on about him. Dumbledore seemed in a similar state as he watched his arch enemy walk towards him. Out of the corner of his eye, Voldemort saw several death eaters go down as they tried to capture Harry Potter, who had leapt up upon the table to gain higher ground. But he could not be bothered. The demise of the Headmaster was all that concerned him at the moment. As the Dark lord approached, the elderly wizard drew himself up to his full and considerable height, staring down at him with hatred.  
  
Voldemort couldn't help himself but to smile with pleasure. "Albus, would you like to know how long I've dreamed of your end?" He carelessly twirled his wand as he stopped, no more than an arms length away from his old teacher.  
  
Dumbledore blinked slowly, his wand appearing in his hand. "Not especially." he replied delicately. His smile morphed into a scowl.  
  
"Longer than you think." Before the sentence was out of his mouth a large jet of energy caught him under his chin, forcing him backwards to his knees. He choked and shivered, only decades of dark ward upon dark ward stopping the curse from finishing him instantly. He staggered to his feet and glared at Dumbledore "Odd, I thought only Slytherin's attacked like that." He snarled, flinging a curse of his own. It deflected off a Light Shield and struck an auror in the chest, killing him instantly.  
  
Dumbledore didn't stop to notice, but brought his wand straight down, then away from himself.  
  
Voldemort instantly felt the earth move under his feet, and when he regained is balance he could see nothing but Dumbledore and the floor they stood upon, which was a dark black marble. Without wasting time on, he hurled a barrage of dark swords in his opposition's direction. They were easily deflected, and in return, Dumbledore cast a consternation charm.  
  
The effects were immediate, and Voldemort couldn't shake off the prickle of fear that raced up and down his back. Unlike most wizards, Dumbledore fought with smaller spells to weaken, then a large one to eliminate. This was one of those spells, a horrifying hex to throw him off his mark. Ignoring the icy hand that gripped his chest, Voldemort summoned his best dark shield. In the glow of the dark purple ward, he could see Dumbledore smiling pleasantly. Clenching his fist, he summoned another barrage of spells in his direction.  
  
For an hour or more they battled back and forth, completely at a standstill. This humiliating in itself, it was driving Voldemort almost to distraction how Dumbledore kept smiling, calm and seemingly happy. Voldemort had tried everything he could think of to wipe that grin off his accursed face, much in vain. As a last resort, he gritted his teeth and cast one of the worst curses he could find in his expansive knowledge of the Dark Arts. A blinding flash of darkness covered the ancient Headmaster.  
  
And Dumbledore fell.  
  
The effects from the consternation charm dissipated, and a surge of victory raced through him as he smirked downward. Chest heaving with the exertion of the last spell, he started to take a step forward. However, a small voice of reason pointed out that this was not entirely reliable, even though Dumbledore looked defeated. Gryffindors could be just as tricky as Slytherins in the right conditions. Inspecting the fallen form scrutinizingly, he raised his wand and shouted "Avada Kadavera!!"  
  
As the light burst out of his wand, he saw, with sudden horror, Dumbledore force himself up and boom "Bouleverse!".  
  
The curse turned about, as though hunting dogs under the Headmaster's control, and enveloped the dark lord in emerald green.  
  
Dumbledore bowed his head as he heard a scream, quickly snuffed out. He sighed and was about to break the confinement spell, when yet another harsh Dark Hex, one that tore through him like an icy wind, bringing him to the ground.  
  
He lay on the floor gasping as the sneering face of the Dark Lord Voldemort leaned over him.  
  
"Pity, isn't it Albus?" he whispered, putting his wand to the old mans whispy temple. "All that work to protect the boy and you destroyed him?" A blue blaze erupted in Dumbledore's eyes as Voldemort continued to smile.  
  
"I used his blood, you see. His blood gave me life. In any other type of magic, if that curse was used on Harry, I would have been killed. However, I tend to prefer Dark magic, and to give me another form, it was incredibly Dark magic. And using his blood offers me his protection. Though I didn't consider the fact that it would protect me in that way I'm glad I didn't kill him then, he was of so much more use to me now.......I don't think you'll find much of a Boy Who Lived when you return. But don't worry Dumbledore; I could never let you live with that burdening your conscience." He leered at his old Transfiguration teacher, who, to his credit, stared boldly back up.  
  
"Never."  
  
~ ( O ) ~  
  
Lucius Malfoy sank into a chair with disgust. Three hundred of their own men had been killed against a mere hundred, including muggles. Only two people had been kept alive for interrogation. Both of them were around his sons age, and he could see them in the corner.  
  
Tapping his foot idly he stared at the place he had last seen his Lord dissapear, four hours ago. Over the years the Death Eaters had religiously come to accept the fact that Lord Voldemort was immortal. He had fought his way back from death twice, and from the surprising demise of Harry Potter, it seemed a third would be added to his record. When Voldemort and Dumbledore had disappeared, Lucius had nodded and accepted control. He figured Dumbledore had wanted to draw the wizards duel away from his followers. Typical Gryffindor.  
  
He stood and walked over to one of the prisoners. It was a pretty young woman of around twenty, her hair had been unceremoniously chopped to shoulder length, and it fluffed around her shoulders in a charming manner. When she saw Lucius she wrinkled her nose in disgust and tossed her head defiantly. He decided not to bother with that one and turned on the second prisoner, whom he knew quite well. He had been one of his son's friends. Blaise Zabini stared up at him hollowly, not speaking or even moving. He tsked and shook his head, it was always disappointing when one of their numbers turned on them.  
  
"Lucius."  
  
The high-pitched voice reached the ears of every Death Eater in the place. Lucius turned loyally about and strode quickly towards his master.  
  
Voldemort was looking about, pleased. "Count?" he hissed, examining a pile of aurors in the corner.  
  
"Three hundred on our side..." he waited for a flinch from his master, or hint of regret, but it didn't come. He merely turned his red eyes back up at him. "And... all but those two for the Order." He gestured over to the corner he had come from.  
  
He inhaled deeply as Voldemort surveyed the scene with a small smile. "You saved prisoners? I'm impressed Lucius...And what else have you done in my absence?"  
  
Lucius cracked his knuckles nervously. This news could either earn him reward or death, neither option seemed too safe to a man who had served for over 30 years. "I put all available members to their posts at the ministry and are awaiting your order to attack. I thought we might be able to achieve a siege if we do it quickly enough."  
  
His worries had been in vain. Voldemort's pleased smirk did not fade, and he continued walking.  
  
"I'm pleased to say that the organized party of our opposition has been completely destroyed, their leader vanquished." He said this loud enough for everyone to hear, and blood lusty cheers echoed across the room. The two prisoners gawped with astonishment.  
  
As he crossed towards the door, Voldemort paused briefly by the door and lifted something from the fallen body of Peter Pettigrew. Tossing it lightly towards Lucius, he exited the gruesome scene.  
  
Lucius Malfoy stared disbelievingly down at the small silver snake pin that was cupped in his hands. It was the decoration of the second in command. Quivering with excitement he fastened it to his cloak, his chest nearly bursting as he followed his master out of the tall copper doors. It was still raining. 


End file.
